


figure my heart out

by ophelialilies



Series: if you want to find love (then you know where the city is) [3]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Setting – New York City, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Donghyuck is a model again hehe, Falling In Love, Fate & Destiny, Implied Sexual Content, Love, M/M, Romance, who is Mark you shall find out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:47:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24551839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ophelialilies/pseuds/ophelialilies
Summary: when Donghyuck steps out the door of his apartment, he’s excited for his first show as closing boy at New York Fashion Week. what he doesn’t know is that there's something else – or someone – that is about to make this evening infinitely more special.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Series: if you want to find love (then you know where the city is) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1768291
Comments: 32
Kudos: 262





	figure my heart out

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to the third and final part of the series! this is in collaboration with the wonderful anca [(@sooyoonies)](https://twitter.com/sooyoonies)! she made a visual to go with this work, you can find them [here](https://twitter.com/ophelialilies/status/1268817038882963456)! it is also included at the start of the story ♡
> 
> the title of this story comes from the 1975’s song 'heart out'! 
> 
> i hope you enjoy this final work and i will see you at the end! as always, happy reading ! 🌷
> 
> (important links in the end notes!)

Donghyuck’s heart flutters in his chest, racing faster than he’d like it to, alive and jumping with the nervous energy of a bird inside a cage. He breathes in, and then out, reminding himself that he’s done this many times before. Although, despite that fact, each time he waits backstage for his turn to step out, he never fails to feel nervous.

Perhaps it’s the fact that this time, things are slightly different. It’s not just any show, but fashion week, and he just so happens to be the closing boy. That thought alone is enough to make the fluttering birds in his chest erratic, and he tries to calm them down but to no avail.

The stage assistant nearby gestures at him with one simple movement that tells him it’s time. He urges his heart to settle as he moves forward, past the assistant and round the corner until he’s on the runway. It’s familiar, the way the urban music fills the large fashion hall and he can feel every pair of eyes on him. It’s a curious thing, that sensation of being watched, because in the darkness Donghyuck can’t really see their faces, he can just feel their gazes.

One leg in front of the other, Donghyuck walks the catwalk, eyes fixated on the darkness in front of him. There’s a roar as he makes more ground on the runway, the other models exiting until it’s just him left on the stage. He doesn’t miss the way the voices of the crowd suddenly pick up, cheering and applauding over the music just a little louder. Bright white lights that leave the ghost of their flash dancing behind his eye appear, as photographers and reporters capture his image, a boy trapped inside a photograph that will no doubt paint the pages of fashion magazines tomorrow.

He doesn’t keep that in mind, though, as he reaches the end of the runway, posing just long enough for the cameras to catch him. Something else that Donghyuck notices every time he does this – no matter how nervous he feels beforehand – is that all of that seems to disappear once he’s under the lights, the only thing visible in an entire room of faceless people.

It brings him to life in a way that nothing else does – the experience of being watched, seen – and so he cocks his hip to the side in a way that allows his yellow blazer to fall open, revealing the white mesh top covering his tan skin. His fingers hook into the belt at his hips, one leg to the side to display the heel of his tall boots.

If the crowd were not already loud, a swell of voices filling the space, they become impossibly louder still. Being the closing boy of the show is an honour, one that is not lost on Donghyuck, and he knows that this moment is pivotal in his career. He can feel it in the way the cameras flash more furiously, the music mounts toward this moment, the final piece in the collection, his body which had been chosen to wear it.

And just as fast as he stops, Donghyuck is walking again, turning after a moment to continue his route along the runway. Soon he’s reaching the end of it, turning to his right and exiting the stage. There’s a roar of applause and noise that washes over him like an ocean, barely muffled despite the walls between the hall and the backstage.

Donghyuck falls back against a nearby wall, releasing a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. There’s a sense of elation pulsing through his veins, as if nothing but pure adrenaline is running through him in this moment. A smile makes its way to his lips as he hears the crowd continue to roar, knowing well that they’re calling for him.

It’s a feeling that leaves him breathless, disoriented, his mind struggling to process that this is real. Years of hard work, of rejection and lost job opportunities had been worth it. Leaving his family behind, in a country across the ocean, had been worth it.

Donghyuck is pulled from his thoughts when the voice of one of the assistants sounds, calling all the models to reenter the stage for the encore. Donghyuck joins the line, the other models moving for him so that he can go last. Donghyuck smiles nervously, a small laugh escaping his lips, as it all still manages to feel unreal.

Soon the audience is cheering again and the models are reentering the stage, one by one, and as Donghyuck steps out once more, all he can feel is proud. A warm feeling, like honey under the sun on a summer’s day flowing through him. So it’s with a brighter smile yet that he greets the audience, interlacing hands with the other models and taking a low bow.

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

By the time Donghyuck finishes making the rounds of the crowd, shaking hands with designers and clinking glasses with fellow models and crew, the flute of champagne in his hand is warm. He sets it down on a nearby table, already intoxicated by the atmosphere of the afterparty. A smile makes its way to his lips as he scans the room, almost feeling out of body as he sees before him a scene he always dreamed of encountering; being a face, having a name, within a sea of infamous bodies.

His smile widens when his eyes fall on a particularly striking head of lilac hair. He wanders over toward the boy, who looks trapped in an uncomfortable conversation with another model (one whom Donghyuck would also rather not engage with, infamous for being incredibly boring). He makes fast progress toward his friend, wasting no time circling an arm around his waist and steering him away with an exaggerated, _“Renjun!”_.

When they’re a safe distance away, out of ear shot, Renjun turns to face him with a ridiculous smile on his face. “Thank god you saved me, I was just about losing my mind.”

“I could tell,” Donghyuck responds as Renjun swipes another glass of champagne from a waiter passing by. He takes a considerable sip from it before meeting Donghyuck’s eyes again.

“How was your show?” his tone shifts rather suddenly, the annoyance vanishing to be replaced by fondness. “How was being the closing boy?”

And there’s warmth dancing in Renjun’s eyes, a light there that Donghyuck knows has nothing to do with the alcohol. He and Renjun had been through thick and thin together, having moved to the city at the same time to pursue the same dream. It’s only by blood, sweat and tears that they both stand here today. Together.

“I don’t really have a word for it,” Donghyuck starts, “other than incredible.”

Renjun laughs, no real bite in it, but Donghyuck is quick to defend himself. “No, truly. It was as if I wasn’t even there, just watching the whole thing from above. It felt like a dream.”

“Well,” Renjun says, slipping effortlessly back into seriousness once more. “It always was your dream.”

There’s a pause as the slightly smaller boy wraps his hand around Donghyuck’s neck, pulling him close. The familiar scent of cologne and blueberries fills his nose as he embraces his friend, in what feels like so much more than a hug. “I’m proud of you, Hyuck,” Renjun whispers against the shell of his ear before they part.

Donghyuck sends him a smile, nothing but a warm feeling humming through his body. “I’m proud of you too, Renjun,” he pauses, Renjun shooting him a grateful smile. “And how was your show?”

“It went well! I didn’t trip over, and that’s always the most important thing.”

They both laugh at that, revelling in the ridiculous truth of it all. Donghyuck knows that Renjun is just being humble, using the comedic aspect of their work to avoid expressing his success. Donghyuck doesn’t mind though, because he knows that Renjun knows that he’s proud of him, and that’s all that matters.

“Renjun!” a voice calls from somewhere across the hall, and Renjun’s eyes flick toward the source of the noise. It comes from somewhere behind Donghyuck, from someone he can’t see, so he watches as Renjun’s pretty eyes light up in recognition.

“Hyuck, I have to go,” he says when his eyes meet Donghyuck’s once more. They look remorseful, as if Donghyuck won’t survive on his own, and Donghyuck laughs, swatting his friend away playfully and urging him to just go.

As his friend thanks him with a grateful smile and walks toward the source of the sound, Donghyuck turns to watch out of curiosity. There’s a tall man waiting for Renjun, someone Donghyuck instantly recognises as Wong Yukhei, the latest face of Calvin Klein. Even through the dimly lit hall Donghyuck can see how attractive he is, with an incredibly structured face and body to match. He’s smiling as the significantly smaller boy approaches, warmth in his pretty eyes.

They embrace in something that looks a little too familiar to just be a friendly hug, and Donghyuck smiles to himself, wondering when _that_ happened. That will be something for him to ponder later, though, because now he finds himself alone once more, an unintentional wallflower.

He scans the room, a crowd of familiar faces and networking that he’s already done. He resolves to leaning against the wall, simply people-watching for a while until another waiter passes by and he manages to swipe a flute of champagne. Donghyuck doesn’t really intend to drink it, more that it gives him something to hold, to distract himself with.

Donghyuck doesn’t exactly feel uncomfortable – there’s something peaceful about people-watching, especially these kinds of people – but he does feel a little awkward. Any apprehension or thoughts of discomfort go out the window, however, when his eyes land on a young man across the hall.

Standing on the opposite side of the space is a man in a simple black suit, and yet he manages to command Donghyuck’s full attention in that moment. His hair is just as dark as his suit, swept off his forehead to reveal pale skin and eyes darker than the night’s sky. And yet, there’s something sparkling deep within them as they meet Donghyuck’s gaze, and that’s when Donghyuck remembers that there are stars in the night sky, too.

Pretty, long fingers wrap around a flute of champagne that matches the one in Donghyuck’s own, and he finds himself watching them for a moment longer than usual because they are just so delicate. Donghyuck raises his gaze once more to find the mysterious boy is looking at him too, with a face that for the first time this evening, he doesn’t recognise.

The other boy watches him just as intently, and Donghyuck keeps his eyes trained on him as the other boy takes him in. His eyes move from Donghyuck’s face to his neck, where it’s exposed by the new burgundy blazer he’s wearing. The boy’s eyes then move down his sides, to his thighs and further down, only to flick back up to his eyes once more when he’s done.

Donghyuck doesn’t know what to think. His heart is fluttering in his chest, not in the same way that it did before walking on stage, like a bird trapped in a cage. Instead, it’s more akin to a butterfly, spreading its wings and dancing beneath the sun. The other boy looks at him with such intensity that Donghyuck can’t seem to look away, and like a moth drawn to the light, his eyes always seem to meet the other’s again.

A group of attendees suddenly come into view, walking through the space between them and for a moment, Donghyuck’s view of the other boy is obscured. Once they clear, however, Donghyuck’s eyes find the boy again (just like a moth) only to realise that he is no longer in his place on the other side of the hall. He’s walking right toward Donghyuck.

Donghyuck gulps. Perhaps now his heart is starting to be more like a bird once more, as the gorgeous, yet mysterious man comes closer and closer. Donghyuck doesn’t move, keeping his feet trained on the spot where he leans against the wall. Soon he finds himself inhaling the sweet smell of cologne, the boy coming to a stop in front of him.

There are words trapped in Donghyuck’s throat, and he finds himself speechless, merely staring at the boy in front of him. He has no idea what to say. That doesn’t seem to phase the other, though, because he opens his mouth to speak (and that’s when Donghyuck notices his pretty lips, soft and pink and arguably very kissable).

“Hi,” he says, a smile coming to his lips after the single word leaves his mouth. And if Donghyuck had thought that he was pretty before, he’s gorgeous now. His voice is deeper than Donghyuck had expected, but softer too. Despite his intimidating attractiveness, his voice is friendly. That’s when Donghyuck realises that he’s still standing there, silent, like an idiot.

“Hi,” he manages to croak out in response, and the smile on the other boy’s face only grows. It’s warm and friendly, not mocking in any way, and Donghyuck finds himself smiling too. “I’m Lee Donghyuck.”

“I know,” the other boy is quick to respond, easily and effortlessly, as if those two words alone don’t knock the breath out of Donghyuck’s lungs.

“You know who I am?” he asks, trying to keep his voice steady, to not give away how flustered he feels right now.

“How could I not?” the other boy responds, his voice calm and warm, and it sounds just like how Donghyuck feels when he takes a sip of the champagne, if not to distract himself with another task for a moment. The liquid is warm and fiery and manages to quell some of the nerves. “I saw your show, and had to know who you were. I had heard your name – it’s on everyone’s lips these days – but I wanted to finally be able to put a face to it.”

The other boy’s smile widens, his eyes turning into crescent moons, and Donghyuck thinks that he’s just about the prettiest thing he has ever seen (and that’s saying something, considering that Donghyuck works with top models on a daily basis). In a rare moment of boldness, perhaps influenced by the alcohol or just the part of him that wants to pursue this, Donghyuck opens his mouth.

“And did the face disappoint?” he smiles innocently, marvelling in the way the other boy suddenly looks taken aback. His eyes widen before settling to crescents once more. Donghyuck hopes the other boy can’t see the blush on his cheeks in the low lighting.

“It certainly did not,” the boy says, his voice so much calmer than Donghyuck feels right now. He’s blushing even harder at the words, at the way the other boy looks at him like he really sees him, really wants to know him. In a way that makes Donghyuck feel light headed.

“What’s your name?” Donghyuck asks after a beat of silence – both because he realised he still doesn’t know the other boy’s name and because he has no idea how to respond to what the boy has just said.

“Mark Lee,” the boy – Mark – says, and Donghyuck ponders why it sounds familiar for a moment, before he realises. And _oh._ “I’m the son of the designer that you walked for this evening.”

His eyelashes are pretty, Donghyuck notices, as the boy seems to lean closer with those words. With anyone else, perhaps he would feel cornered, pressed against the wall with little space between him and the other. Instead, with this alluring boy he now knows by the name of Mark, he feels warm. There’s heat and the smell of spice radiating off him, and Donghyuck finds himself wanting to lean into it. He raises his eyes when he realises they’re trained on the other boy’s lips (Mark must notice, though, because he runs his tongue along his bottom lip). Donghyuck gulps again.

“I was very honoured to walk for him. Even to be his closing boy,” Donghyuck says, and it comes out more as a whisper because Mark is so close that he barely needs to make a sound to be heard.

“He was very excited to have you,” Mark says, leaning back a little and suddenly Donghyuck feels like he can breathe again (he misses the warmth, though). “He had been desperate to have you in one of his shows for a long time.”

At those words Donghyuck finds himself smiling, feeling warm and happy at the idea of one of the top designers in the country actively wanting him to walk in his designs.

“I’m not surprised at all,” Mark continues after a moment’s pause. Donghyuck finds himself smiling even wider at that, and perhaps blushing a little harder.

Around them the music changes, and suddenly the crowds of attendees and networkers are flocking to the centre, where a space has formed for dancing.

“Will you dance with me?” the other boy is asking before Donghyuck can even really register what’s happening. He nods quickly before the opportunity can slip away. Mark smiles, taking his hand in his.

As the other boy leads him toward the centre of the hall, Donghyuck notices how cool his touch is. He glances down at their interlaced hands, where his golden skin meets skin whiter than paper. It’s a nice contrast, he thinks, as they reach the crowd, weaving effortlessly through them like leaves in the wind until they’re almost in the middle.

A laugh escapes Donghyuck’s lips at Mark’s choice of location, and the other boy merely sends him a smile as he turns to face him. His hands slip effortlessly around Donghyuck’s waist, but not before he asks, “Is this okay?”

Donghyuck nods, because yes, this is definitely okay, and raises his own hands to the shoulders of the other boy. (They’re strong and wide despite his lean frame, but that’s something Donghyuck will think about later).

“Is this alright?” he asks in return. Mark smiles and nods.

“Definitely alright,” he murmurs, so quiet Donghyuck could have easily missed it if he weren’t paying so much attention to everything that the other boy does. 

The music is a classical piece that Donghyuck doesn’t recognise, and he isn’t too well versed in ballroom style dancing, but none of that seems to matter because Mark seems to be. He moves them effortlessly across the floor, Donghyuck merely following his lead. It turns out that they work very well together, like the push and pull of the tides. Mark’s eyes never leave Donghyuck’s, except to occasionally flick down toward his lips and back, to which Donghyuck smiles nervously and looks away, hoping that the colour he knows is on his cheeks isn’t visible.

“What made you come to New York City?” Mark is asking, after perhaps minutes or only a second of silence. The question is genuine, as if the other boy really wants to know, to understand Donghyuck better, and that has butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

“Well, I always wanted to move here because it’s the heart of the fashion industry,” Donghyuck starts, feeling rather nostalgic as he relives the thought processes of his younger self. Mark nods in agreement. “But once I actually moved here, I found a different reason to stay.”

Mark smiles, as if he already knows what Donghyuck is going to say. It sends a shiver down Donghyuck’s spine, because something about the other boy’s expression makes him think that Mark just might know.

“New York has never really felt like a place to me. It’s more like...,” he trails off, the right words evading him as Mark spins him in his arms, only to pull him close once more.

“A feeling?" Mark offers once they’re close again. Even though it’s a question, just a suggestion, they both know that he’s right. That that is exactly what Donghyuck wanted to say but couldn’t find the words to. 

“A feeling,” he confirms.

They smile at each other, their eyes connecting only to break apart and reconnect as Donghyuck spins once more. There’s something familiar in the way Mark holds Donghyuck, in the way they look at each other, as if they understand. As if, perhaps, they had known each other before. 

Soon the dance is coming to a close, the music picking up its pace and the dancers dispersing once more into crowds of excited laughter and chatter. Mark and Donghyuck do the same, moving toward the edge of the room once more, but much to Donghyuck’s surprise (and relief), one of Mark’s hands never leaves his waist. It stays there, gentle, just the ghost of a touch, and yet it’s as if everything the other boy does is amplified, and Donghyuck can feel every single point of connection between them. 

With surprising ease, they resume conversation once more, and it flows between them effortlessly. They talk about the industry, about life in the public eye and even their favourite parts of New York City. Not once does the conversation lull or slip into an uncomfortable silence. As Mark talks, Donghyuck counts his lucky stars that what could have been an awkward evening spent by the side of the room turned into something rather special, meeting a gorgeous boy who he just so happens to get along with rather well. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Mark is asking suddenly, snapping Donghyuck out of his reverie rather quickly. 

“Get out of here?” Donghyuck repeats blankly, not fully understanding the question because his brain seems to be moving rather slowly, his eyes instead much more focused on the other boy’s pretty lips (and his pretty eyes too, Donghyuck isn’t picky). 

“Yeah,” Mark responds, a pretty smile coming to his lips. It brightens up his whole face impossibly more so, and as Donghyuck looks into his eyes, he is once more reminded of stars in the night sky. “My apartment isn’t far from here. We could go back there if you like.”

Donghyuck blinks. Of course _he’d like_ , his heart whispers rather urgently, because he’s nothing if not certain that he doesn’t want his evening with a gorgeous boy to end here. However, for some reason he seems to be at a loss for words. (His brain never really seems to work effectively at the most crucial of times).

Mark’s eyes widen after Donghyuck is silent for a few more moments. “Oh, I’m sorry if I overstepped a boundary, Donghyuck,” Mark is quick to say. Much to Donghyuck’s dismay, the other boy’s hand slips from Donghyuck’s waist and he puts a bit more distance between them. 

“No,” Donghyuck says firmly as he quickly finds his feet. He reaches down, interlacing his hand with Mark’s, who immediately intertwines their fingers in response despite the hesitant, confused look on his face. “You didn’t, Mark. It’s okay.”

A pause. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Donghyuck finishes. A beautiful smile breaks out on Mark’s face, one of nothing but relief. 

“Okay," Mark nods. “Are you ready now?”

Donghyuck nods in response, and then Mark is leading them toward the exit, weaving through the groupings of people easily without ever separating their hands. They’re almost at the exit when Donghyuck freezes at the sound of his name. 

“Donghyuck!” the voice is calling, and he turns to the side to see Renjun, looking rather tiny in the arms of Yukhei who holds him from behind. There’s something wicked in his expression, an evil and knowing glint in his eye as he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and looks exaggeratedly between Donghyuck and Mark. 

“Do you know him?” Mark asks, and his voice is laced with amusement. It sounds pretty. Donghyuck pokes his tongue at Renjun before moving again, trying to usher them away from his friend before he can wreak anymore havoc. 

“Yes, that is unfortunately my best friend,” Donghyuck sighs as they step through the entrance of the Met, the security guards giving them curt nods as they pass. All of the paparazzi, reporters and press have gone home for the evening, and the red carpet is completely empty save for the two of them. It almost feels more magical this way, as Mark leads Donghyuck toward a sleek black limousine that waits at the bottom of the stairs. 

“He seems funny,” Mark says as they descend, to which Donghyuck laughs.

“You have no idea,” to which Mark simply smiles. They reach the limousine, Mark opening the door for Donghyuck to step into, but he pauses. He turns to face the museum one more time, basking in its beauty in the darkness of the night with nothing but golden spotlights to bring it to life.

The Met had always reminded Donghyuck of a castle, and he feels rather like the protagonist of a cliché romantic film right now. That doesn’t make the moment any less beautiful, though. 

“Is everything alright?” Mark asks, bringing Donghyuck back to the moment.

“Yes,” Donghyuck confirms with a smile, wasting no time hopping inside the limousine. The seats are new and sleek and the whole car smells like leather. Despite being a successful model, Donghyuck is really at the beginnings of his career, and it will be a long time before he gets used to this kind of luxury. 

Mark takes a seat in the car soon after Donghyuck, the door closing behind him and the driver taking off smoothly. Donghyuck’s hands are splayed out on the soft leather, running along it, marvelling in how smooth it feels. He snaps his head up to meet Mark’s gaze when the other boy laughs. 

Once again, it’s not mocking or sarcastic. It’s the most genuine, lighthearted sound Donghyuck has ever heard, and he decides in that moment that if he can have things his way, tonight won’t be the last time that he gets to hear it. 

“You’re so cute, you know that?” Mark says, his eyes crinkled and his nose slightly scrunched, and Donghyuck thinks that _no, you’re the cute one, Mark_. But it’s a lovely sentiment, because Donghyuck has been called a lot of things, but never cute. Handsome, gorgeous, attractive, and beautiful are names he’d become desensitised to hearing, so hearing a new word on a new boy’s lips makes his head spin. 

“I think you’re cute,” he quips back, deciding to leave any inhibition he may have had at the museum that recedes behind them in the distance. They’re entering a new part of town, further from Central Park and deeper into the Upper East Side. Surrounding them are nothing but mansions and sky scraping buildings screaming luxury and wealth. 

“Do you now?” Mark asks with a playful tone. Donghyuck blushes despite himself, and watches as Mark bites his lip. 

“Yes, I do,” he repeats, but his eyes are trained on Mark’s lips. He watches as Mark swallows slowly, tracking the movement of his adam’s apple as it dips down, only to come back up again. 

“Driver, roll up the partition, please,” Mark calls out, and this time his voice sounds more rough, more heady. Donghyuck’s heart flutters in his chest. He can feel warmth radiating from the other boy, and every inch of himself longs to lean into it. They both watch, as if in slow motion, as the partition that separates the front area of the car, where the driver sits, from the rest of the limousine rolls up. 

When it does, they’re left in silence, and Donghyuck turns to face Mark again. The other boy beats him to it, already looking at him with those crescent moon eyes and a slow smile on his lips. Donghyuck feels it before he sees it, as Mark raises a hand to cup his cheek delicately. His brows are furrowed slightly, as if in question, but they immediately unfurrow when Donghyuck leans into the touch.

“You know, something I didn’t say earlier,” Mark speaks slowly, his voice still sounding affected, although by what exactly, Donghyuck can’t discern. He hums to show that he’s listening. “Is that you’re not just cute. You’re ethereal, Donghyuck.”

That makes twice since they met that Mark has managed to call him a word that he’s never been called before. It leaves him speechless, with a fluttering heart and a blush on his cheeks, and he doesn’t know what to say. Words have once again failed him, for the umpteenth time this evening, and so he does the only thing that he can really think to do. And that is to kiss Mark. (It’s definitely not also because he’s been staring at the other boy’s incredibly kissable lips all evening. No, it’s definitely not that). 

Their lips meet halfway, and Donghyuck sighs into the kiss when Mark meets him with equal intensity. Not to Donghyuck’s surprise, they move against each other just as harmoniously as they had when they had danced. Except this time, neither holds back.

Mark deepens the kiss, licking into Donghyuck’s mouth and said boy opens willingly in silent permission. A breathy whimper escapes his lips when Mark enters with a gentle yet passionate tongue, and the sound wavers in the small, private space of the limousine. Soon it’s too much for Donghyuck, he’s running out of breath and feeling as though he’s burning up, and Mark must realise it.

Soon his kisses are moving downward, along his jaw and down his neck to suck at a particularly sensitive spot that he realises quickly is enough to make Donghyuck come undone. Donghyuck’s hands fly out to tangle in Mark’s hair – soft as he runs his fingers through it – and he falls backward, his back meeting the cool leather of the seat beneath him.

With impressive skill, Mark’s lips never leave his neck as they fall. The other boy settles comfortably above him, now kissing at his collarbones where the dress shirt parts to expose them. 

“You’re so pretty like this,” Mark is whispering against his skin, those words alone enough to make heat pool in his stomach. It doesn’t last long, though, because soon a voice sounds. It’s muffled through the closed partition, but unmistakably belongs to the driver. 

“Sir, we have arrived at your apartment.”

Donghyuck raises his head to meet Mark’s eyes, and watches as they slowly crinkle and his nose scrunches, and he bursts into laughter. Donghyuck does too, and he feels lightheaded, his heart light and happy in his chest. What a ridiculous situation he’s found himself in. 

“Let’s go,” Mark is saying, wrapping an arm around Donghyuck’s back to help him sit up. They’re still laughing as they stumble rather ungracefully out of the limousine, Mark thanking the driver quickly before the car takes off and disappears down the street. Neither moves toward the building – a tall, completely glass and obviously new apartment complex. Instead, Mark turns toward Donghyuck, taking his hands in his. 

He’s smiling and the dim golden light of the street posts softens him, rounds out his sharp cheekbones and jawline. He looks more like a boy than a man now, smiling at Donghyuck like this. His heart skips a beat.

“Would you like to come inside?” Mark asks, his eyes glinting. Donghyuck wonders how the other boy could even ask that question, as if it weren’t already obvious from the way Mark had reduced him to a breathy mess in the backseat of his car. (Still, it’s not entirely surprising that the other boy asks, as endearing as he is).

“I would love to,” Donghyuck confirms with a nod. Mark sends him a shy smile before turning toward the building. They ascend the stairs and enter the grand lobby without ever separating, their hands interlaced between them. Donghyuck barely has time to take in the lobby in all its glory – all old chandeliers and marble tiles – because soon they’re making a direct line for the elevators.

Mark presses the button and a moment later one arrives. They step inside silently, and as the doors shut slowly, Mark turns to face him. The entire elevator is made of mirrors, and so Donghyuck can see himself across four walls as Mark raises a tentative hand to his face, brushing a stray curl out of his eyes. Mark’s smiling as his eyes trace the movement, but Donghyuck can’t seem to look anywhere other than the other boy’s eyes. How they can be both darker than the night and brighter than the stars he may never understand.

Nothing is said but the silence is comfortable. Familiar, even. Soon the doors are reopening with a _ding!_ , a distorted voice announcing through the speakers that they have reached the top floor. Donghyuck sends Mark a look, feeling his own eyes widen, but Mark does nothing except wink and guide him out of the elevator by the hand.

Donghyuck can do nothing but follow, watching in awe as they reach the only door in the entire hallway. Mark presses a finger to a digital pad beside the door, and it clicks open instantly.

“Woah,” Donghyuck exhales, because he’s only ever seen technology like that in movies. Mark laughs, a sweet sound once more, before they’re stepping inside the apartment and the door is closing behind them. Well, apartment isn’t exactly the _most_ accurate term to use. In fact, it’s more akin to a penthouse on the top level of a skyscraper in the Upper East Side, but who’s really paying attention to that? 

Certainly not Donghyuck, not when Mark is looking at him like _that_ . 

At some point since they entered the apartment, Mark had moved toward the open living area, where a couch faces a glass wall that spills out onto a view of the city below. They’re so high up that it makes Donghyuck’s stomach churn uncomfortably, but that’s soon forgotten when he meets Mark’s eyes again. The other boy is sitting on the couch, watching him with warm eyes that reflect the flickering flames of the fireplace beside them. 

Honouring the promise that Donghyuck had made to himself – to leave his inhibitions behind at the Met – he follows the instinct to move toward Mark. The other boy watches, tracking his movements as Donghyuck rounds the couch, stopping in front of him.

With a delicate hand, Donghyuck reaches down, curling his fingers beneath Mark’s chin and tilting it upward. Their eyes meet and Donghyuck finds something he hadn’t expected to find there – vulnerability. There’s something raw and unconcealed there, as if Mark is baring himself to Donghyuck. Showing him everything that he is. And so Donghyuck does the same.

In one graceful motion, Donghyuck straddles Mark’s thighs, wasting no time recapturing his lips. Mark’s hands find his waist instantly, as if they had done it a thousand times before, and he sighs into the kiss. This time they take it a little slower, both realising that there’s no need to rush. The night has always been a place where time doesn’t exist for Donghyuck, where he’s left alone with only his thoughts and the stars for company. He’s here with Mark now, though, and so it feels even more like they have all the time in the world. 

Donghyuck isn’t sure how long they spend there on the couch, or when exactly it is that they move to Mark’s bed. He’s not paying attention to the details, because he’s far too lost, drowning in Mark’s smell, his kisses and his touches, the way his fingers trace down Donghyuck’s now exposed torso, making his back arch off the bed sheets. 

He makes love the way Donghyuck likes – soft and tender, gentle and caring and always seeking permission. It’s endearing and it makes Donghyuck feel safe. And so he lets go, fully releasing himself and surrendering to the gorgeous boy on top of him. It’s perhaps the most pleasure he’s felt with a lover in a long time. 

It isn’t long before he and Mark are both coming undone, unconcealed screams of pleasure as they chase their highs into the night. Even after it’s over, when both of them have come back down to earth again, catching their breaths, they never part.

They crawl beneath the sheets, already heavy with the peaceful lull of sleep as Donghyuck curls himself into Mark’s embrace; warm and welcoming and comfortable. He drifts off to sleep rather quickly, not before hearing the words the Mark mumbles against his skin through the silence: “I’m glad that I met you tonight, Lee Donghyuck.”

 _I’m glad that I met you too, Mark Lee_ , Donghyuck thinks, as sleep rises from her home to claim him for the evening. He rides the waves of unconsciousness, feeling peaceful and content as he dreams of a big city, full of magic and surprises, at the centre of it all standing a boy with hair darker than night and a smile brighter than day. 

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> it's just you and i, tonight, why don't you figure my heart out? ♡
> 
> helloo what did you think? if you liked it please leave a kudos or let me know in the comments! i hope that you enjoyed the series – both the stories by me and the incredible art by anca! let's hope that donghyuck has a wonderful birthday ☀️
> 
> for more information on how to help the blm movement, please check out this [carrd](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/). even just signing a petition and sharing it with others makes a difference! please also sign this petition regarding the junk terror bill in the Phillipines ! you can find it [here](https://www.change.org/p/junk-the-anti-terrorism-bill-and-uphold-human-rights?utm_content=cl_sharecopy_22475003_en-US%3Av3&recruiter=1094465115&recruited_by_id=2be78640-a076-11ea-94b9-4b26c0d86cf8&utm_source=share_petition&utm_medium=copylink&utm_campaign=psf_combo_share_initial&utm_term=psf_combo_share_initial).
> 
> thank you for reading my loves !! stay safe, stay strong, and lots of love,  
> ophelia 🌷
> 
> come talk to me !! [twitter](https://twitter.com/ophelialilies) & [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/ophelialilies)


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